The Gnarly History of Canned Water

From nitroglycerin to the can in your hand.

The phrase “Liquid Death” has a rich and gnarly history. In the early 1900s, it was nitroglycerin—the stuff you used to blow up bridges and, occasionally, yourself if you weren’t careful. By Prohibition, “Liquid Death” became bootleggers’ whiskey, dodging raids and fueling underground parties. Then came the world wars, when it was a nickname for lethal concoctions like gasoline bombs and nitric acid weapons. Point is, Liquid Death has always been hardcore.

Enter 2017. Mike Cessario, a man with a punk rock sensibility and a sense of irony, launches Liquid Death: not an explosive, not a cocktail, but canned water. With a skull logo and an ad campaign that could double as a Slayer music video, the brand quickly turned a utilitarian product into an act of rebellion. Suddenly, hydration wasn’t just good for you—it was cool

But don’t be fooled by the tongue-in-cheek marketing. Canned water has a gritty backstory all its own. Napoleon commissioned canned rations to fuel his conquests, leading to the invention of canned food in—you guessed it—Champagne bottles. Arctic explorers relied on cans for survival, though some, like the doomed Franklin Expedition, might have preferred cannibalism to whatever was inside those rusty tins. During the Cold War, millions of cans of water were stashed in fallout shelters to keep Americans hydrated in case of nuclear annihilation.

Even today, canned water proves its mettle in moments of crisis. Anheuser-Busch has diverted beer production to churn out emergency drinking water during natural disasters, delivering over 96 million cans to date.

So why does Liquid Death feel so fresh? Because it takes this storied past and makes it unapologetically modern. It’s not just a drink; it’s a statement against single-use plastics and the monotony of hydration. Every can feels like you’re wielding a piece of history, rebranded for the age of sustainability and sarcastic rebellion.

The next time you crack open a can of Liquid Death, take a moment to appreciate the irony: the beverage that’s out to "murder your thirst" is also saving the planet, one aluminum can at a time.

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